


Fears and a Promise

by Meraad



Series: Sorrows and Delights - Blackwall/Cadash [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Some angst, Un-Betaed Trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 11:44:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14670387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meraad/pseuds/Meraad
Summary: The day before Rija is supposed to close the breach with the Templars help is full of worries and fears. Blackwall comes to her rescue.





	Fears and a Promise

The Templars had begun to arrive. The ones that were going to help close the breach should all arrive at Haven before nightfall, and if that was the case then they would make their trek to the breach first thing in the morning. Doubt had Rija’s insides twisting into knots.

_What if it didn’t work?_

_What if the Templars couldn’t help?_

_What if **she** wasn’t strong enough._

Flexing her left hand in front of her, she stared at the mark. A quiet snort of laughter escaped her lips. Herald of Andraste. What a joke. Footsteps crunching in the snow drew her attention and she turned her head. “Warden Blackwall.”

“My lady,” he intoned.

“Are you always so proper, Salroka?” Rija took a swig from the half empty bottle of whiskey, then set it back down between her thighs. She rested her hands behind her and leaned back to get a better look at the man.

After a few moments, Blackwall sat down beside her on the massive boulder that overlooked the frozen lake. “Salroka? That another way of calling me a horses ass?”

Rija laughed. It had just slipped out. She decided the fine brew she had been sipping on for the better part of an hour was finally getting to her. Rija had friends in the Carta. But she couldn’t trust them as far as she could toss them. For the most part, she liked the people she’d met since the whole ordeal with the explosion at the Conclave.

Except for Solas. Something about the elf rubbed her the wrong way. Maybe it was because of his love of the Fade. Something dwarves had no connection to. Well, all dwarves save for her. The dreams she had disturbed her greatly and it had taken weeks and a quiet worded conversation with Leliana to figure out what was happening to her.

The last person Rija called Salroka and meant it had been her cousin, as the boy had lain dying in her arms. “Friend,” she said reaching over to grab her pipe from where it rested on an old worn piece of leather beside her leg.

“Friend?”

She heard the surprise in his voice. Rija lit the pipe and puffed a few times as she thought. Hadn’t she been obvious? She had him accompany her everywhere. She boldly flirted with him every chance she had. At first, she’d just found the man devastatingly handsome and fantasized about all the ways she could ride him.

As the months progressed and she got to know him while they traveled, she grew to like him. She trusted him. Something she had a hard time with. Trust was sacred, and Blackwall had proven himself worthy so far. “One at my side,” Rija said glancing at him as she spoke.

Blackwall ducked his head, looked down at his hands. He didn’t say anything and she bowed her head. “Will you do me a favor tomorrow?”

“Of course,” he said without even the slightest hesitation.

A smile creased her cheeks. “You don’t even know what I want. I could be about to ask you to dress in drag and dance as a distraction next time we are facing off with fifteen bandits.”

He chuckled quietly. “Just say the word, my lady. I will do anything you ask.”

Rija looked at him, thinking she must have heard him wrong or that they were just empty words. “Call me Rija.”

That had him turning his head to look at her. “My la-” he broke off and just stared at her for a moment. “Rija.” She was convinced her heart skipped a beat hearing her name in that gravely voice of his. “Was that all you wanted?”

“No,” she said and slipped her hand under the collar of her shirt and tugged out the long leather cord that hung around her neck. Clasping her fist around the stone pendant that hung from it she pulled it over her head. “Would you hold onto this for me?” she said and held her fist out.

Blackwall moved slowly to reach out and hold his hand below hers. “Why? What is it?”

Rija opened her hand and the stone fell into Blackwall’s palm. “Just in case tomorrow-” she swallowed hard. She was terrified. But she didn’t have a choice in the matter. “It was my cousin’s. Just keep it safe for me, please?”

She watched him curl his fingers over it and hold it tight. “You’ll be fine,” he said, then after a moment he looped the leather cord over his head and tucked it beneath his shirt.

“There are words,” she said quietly. “Varric knows them, if I die.”

“You aren’t going to die,” he said, voice commanding and gruff.

“I don’t deserve the honor of returning to the stone,” she continued, ignoring his words, because he couldn’t know and neither did she. “But I wish I did.”

Blackwall reached over and tugged the whiskey bottle from between her thighs. “I think you’re done with this.”

Rija laughed quietly. “I’m not drunk, Blackwall.” She looked back out over the lake and took another puff from her pipe. “I’m just scared.” She held her left hand out, stared at the mark. It still hurt, but she’d gotten used to it. Like the center of her hand fell asleep and the pins and needles sensation traveled up through her wrist. Closing the little rifts made the feeling spread out through her fingers and up her arm.

“You’ll be fine,” he said.

“Right, sure,” Rija muttered. “We’re just unleashing an immeasurable amount of power that I am somehow going to have to figure out how to use to close a tear into the Fade.”

Blackwall’s hand covered hers, wrapped around it, squeezed. “You’re not alone, Rija,” he said quietly.

“Yes, I am.” She glanced up at him, gave him a crooked smile. “I’m surrounded by people, but I’m alone in this.” His brow furrowed and he just looked at her for a long time.

“Come on,” he said tugging on her hand. “Stand up.”

“Why?” Rija asked, setting aside her pipe, but she did as he’d said and got to her feet. He got down on one knee and held both of her hands in his. “What are you doing?” she asked, feeling her heart beat faster in her chest.

Blackwall lowered his head, pressing his forehead against the backs of her hands. “I pledge myself, here and now, to remain at your side through all your trials to come.”

“Blackwall-” she started, but broke off when he squeezed her hands. Tears stung the backs of her eyes as she stared down at the top of his head.

“I offer you my fealty. I give you my blade and my shield. My life is yours.” He lifted his head and met her gaze. “If I break my oath, may the land open to swallow me, the sea rise to drown me, and the sky fall upon me.”

Rija bit her tongue, trying to stop her jaw from trembling, to keep the tears that wanted to fall at bay. Her throat was tight and no words would come, so she took his face between her hands and pressed her lips first to his forehead, over one cheek, then the other before finally brushing her lips against his. She heard Blackwall’s breath hitch. His arms were steel bands around her waist, hugging her to him as he kissed her back with near desperation.

Blackwall ended the kiss abruptly, pulling himself away from her, his hands gripping her hips, holding her away from him. “That shouldn’t have happened,” he rasped.

“Why not?”

“You’re the Herald. I’m not worthy.”

“Isn’t that my choice?” Rija asked. Blackwall pulled his hands away, wouldn’t meet her eyes. She sighed before going back to her perch on the edge of the rock. Her chest ached and she reached up, rubbing her hand against her sternum, willing away the sensation. “I-” she swallowed, waved her hand absently. “I release you from that oath. You don’t need...” her breath hitched and she grit her teeth, cursing silently. “I’ll be fine.”

He was still on one knee just a few short feet away, she could hear his breathing. “I want you, Rija. I cannot deny that.” She angled her head just enough to see him from the corner of her eye. “But my past… before… I am… I was not a good person. The things I did-” he broke off, and let out a shuddering breath.

“You’re not the only criminal, Salroka. Everyone knows what the Carta is. My hands aren’t exactly clean of all sin, so don’t pretend like I’m better than you.”

“I don’t deserve your trust, your kind words, or to feel your lips on mine,” he said quietly and she heard him get to his feet. Rija shook her head and grabbed the bottle of whiskey. She pulled out the cork and was about to take a swig when Blackwall’s hand covered hers. “Can’t have you getting blind drunk the night before something so important.”

She cursed quietly and tried to tug the bottle away from him. “I’m not getting drunk, just-” she let out an exasperated grunt. “Fuck off.” Bitterness had grabbed hold of her and she wanted to wallow in it. Despite the Warden’s pretty words, she was alone and she knew it. She always would be.

“One night,” Blackwall said and she frowned, turning her head to look up at him.

“What?”

“Let me spend one night with you. I don’t deserve it. Take your frustrations out on me. Let me distract you from your fears of tomorrow.”

Rija couldn’t breathe. Was he offering what she thought he was offering? “Are you serious?” she finally managed to get the words past the sudden lump in her throat.

The man nodded his head slowly. “Anything you want.”

 _I want you_ , she thought, then swallowed hard. “Come to my cabin.”

“As my lady wishes.”


End file.
